Marriage to a Mister (A Daughters of Regency #1) (25 page)

"I see, and where is Big Thomas?"

"Here, Mr. Woolf, Thomas Briggs," he introduced himself, nodding at first Evan and then Fleur. He was a large man, his shoulders square, his face tanned and freckled, his red hair slightly receding.
 

 
"Forgive me for not making it in time to greet you, but we was all in a tizzy trying to make ready for your arrival. We had little notice, sir."

Evan detected a bit of pique, but Thomas would soon learn that was just his way. Evan cared not if he was waited upon at his door, but then he remembered he was a married man now and that kind of thinking would no longer suit.

"Yes, my apologies for that, Briggs, but my wife and I had need to come early. This is she, Lady —"
"Mrs. Woolf please, I would prefer to be called Mrs. Woolf," she interrupted. Thomas and his son bowed, and Fleur smiled and nodded her head.
 

Evan wondered why that made his stomach dance and his head spin.

"As you please, madam."

"I was told my mother-in-law sent a maid this morning, has she arrived?"

Briggs nodded. "She was accompanied also by a Mr. Stewart. He said he was an under-butler at Blackburn Hall and was to help you set up house."

Evan should have known his mother would sneak in one more servant. "Yes, that sounds like my mother. I think I might just keep him on. It will serve her right for meddling and will save me the trouble of finding a new man."

"Evan," Fleur scolded behind a smile.

He turned towards her. "She should have known better. In fact, I bet she hoped I would. Are the others inside? Has your uncle left yet? He was eager to retire when I took on the place."
 

He ushered Fleur towards the front entryway, and Big Thomas followed.
 

"Yes, my uncle left yesterday. My wife is currently at the cottage making it ready for your arrival and my mother is inside the kitchen, taking on the duties of cook as well as head housekeeper for the moment."

"The cottage was opened? What on earth for?"

"The house, sir, we've only arrived days ago and have only had time to make repairs on the servant floor. It seemed appropriate to make those a priority so we could staff the house while other renovations are being made."

"Yes, makes sense, but what about my quarters? The upstairs sitting rooms?"

"None of it has been touched yet, sir. We figured you would want a say in how it was remade." Thomas cleared his throat before continuing. "The cottage has been well-maintained, sir, and has many rooms you can make use of while we start the major repairs. It has two sitting rooms. No proper dining room, but it does have a small breakfast room."
 

Evan nodded and took Fleur all the way inside the home. He watched as she marveled at the beautiful wall coverings that had been left to ruin and peel from the plaster. Evan took in his surroundings, and finally, with Fleur standing in the middle of all the dilapidation, he could he see what Nathan has been trying to tell him.

He coughed, the dust in the air tickling his nose. "The cottage is fine, I am sure, Briggs. Thank you for having the foresight I lacked. I underestimated what needed to be done here."

Thomas nodded and held his arm out towards the door. "Would you prefer to drive to the cottage or to walk?"

"Oh, please, let us walk," Fleur interrupted. "I don't know if my legs can stand another minute in the carriage."

"Seems like we are walking," said Evan.

Fleur looked over the grounds and fell in love for a second time. The house, while in disarray now, would be wonderful when finished, and the grounds themselves were lush and green. She could see a pond with beautiful willow trees reaching towards the water and she felt the urge to run there and sit in the shade.
 

The cottage itself was quaint, red brick matching the large home, green shutters framing the windows. Thomas opened the white gate that closed in the small courtyard surrounding the cottage. She loved it, all of it. She could easily imagine raising a family here, inviting her father and sister over for holidays and christenings. Life was going to be peaceful here, she knew it.

***

That night Fleur sat in the morning room of the cottage, finally feeling rested. She lifted her warm tea to her lips and was thankful to finally have a moment to breathe as she knew the next several weeks would be chaotic.

After they had arrived at the cottage, Thomas had left them to freshen up but then he returned with the layout and plans of the main home. He and Evan poured over them for hours while she had a small nap.

Over dinner, Evan had told her what he and Thomas discussed and asked her opinions. They were going to share the responsibility, he told her. He would take on the structure and outside of the home, and she, the interior.

She thought when they married, she would come here and fade into the background of his life, but he was determined to include her. She wouldn't just be running the house, it was to be someplace she could feel at home.
 

She took another sip of tea and looked over to him asleep in a large wingback chair. His head had fallen to the side, leaning against the patterned fabric.

She stood and walked over to him. Touching his brow, she pushed his dark hair up and behind his ear. "You must be so exhausted," she said. "Evan? Evan, wake up."

She sighed when he did not stir and decided not to wake him. He would only move from this chair to another in their room, so what was the use? She pulled a knitted throw from the sidearm of the matching chair beside him and draped it over him.

She was grateful for the courtesy he was showing her, but tomorrow, she decided, tomorrow when they retired, she would ask him to stay, to sleep beside her in their bed.
 

She walked around the room blowing out candles and leaving one to light her way upstairs. "Goodnight, Evan," she said, leaning down to kiss the corner of his lips before taking the candle and making her way to the bedroom.

***

Fleur looked in the mirror, fiddling with the lose tendrils of hair escaping the braids placed in her hair by her new maid. She then smoothed down her pink muslin dress, while wondering if Evan was having breakfast or if he had gone to start the day.

She left the room and made her way downstairs to the breakfast room, and she was glad to see him there. He had finished eating and was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, his hands folded on his chest.

She wondered if he was asleep. "Evan?"

His eyes slowly opened and he smiled dreamily. She flushed as he just sat and stared, then she started as he frowned and popped out of his chair suddenly. She laughed.
 

"I don't require you stand upon my arrival to breakfast, especially if you're going to make a habit of sleeping at the table."

He smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Forgive me, I did not sleep well."

"I did try to wake you before I went up."

"Yes, I noticed the blanket. Thank you."

She looked down and away from his piercing dark eyes, then nodded. "Will you be at home this morning or ..." She waved her hand in the air.

"I will be with Briggs, we're going to survey the damage to the eastern wall while the sun is still in our favor, then there are plenty of other things. What are your plans today?"

She loaded her plate from the sideboard then sat down, disappointed she would not see him until dinner. "I think I will walk the grounds then later come into the main house and take notes of furnishings we will need. We don't need to do everything now, but the downstairs living areas and at least three of the bedchambers should be done immediately so we can have guests. The rest can be done at a more sedate pace."

Evan nodded. "Agreed."

He walked around the table to her, and she thought for the briefest moment he was going to lean down to kiss her cheek. She waited, but in the end he placed his hand on her shoulder and patted her before rushing towards the door.

"I was thinking," he said, hesitating at the doorway. "I won't be with Briggs all day and I am willing to wager there are some interesting things in the attic we could use. Care to go hunting later?"

Her eyes widened. "What do you think could be in there?"

"No way to know. The house was never lived in but it was fully furnished at one time. I bet we find a treasure trove up there."

Her spirits were raised as she quickly accepted. She smiled at him when he nodded to her before leaving the room and thought,
Perhaps the day will not be so dull after all
.

***

Fleur walked around the big house writing down needs and wants for each room, hoping they could fill many of those needs with things from the attic as there was a very long list. She finally made her way upstairs, past the servant's floor, and stopped in front of the attic.
 

She had intended to wait for Evan, she really did, but curiosity won and she swing open the door.

Fleur gasped. There were hundreds of items scattered all around, covered in white linen. Paintings, mirrors, furniture, and who knew what else.

She ran her hand over what looked to be a covered round table,
 
landing on a small lamp. She lifted it, trying to see the maker's mark, excitement running through her. "I wonder why they didn't take all this when they cleared the bottom floors to sell."

"Who knows," said Evan, giving Fleur the fright of her life.
 

She clutched her chest and breathed slowly through her nose, trying not to lose her wits. "Good heavens, Evan, I nearly threw this at you."

 
He laughed, and she slammed the lamp down on a nearby wooden crate.

Evan looked around, taking it all in. "All this must be decades old, maybe even as old has the house."

"Possibly older if they purchased antiques," Fleur said. "Shall we?" she asked, motioning to the table she was eyeing before.
 

Evan nodded and grasped the large linen covering, flinging the fabric off.
 
Fleur stared.

It was a painstakingly crafted table with hundreds of diamond shaped marble inlays covering the surface and the sides. The legs were carved ornately out of a beautiful dark mahogany. It might have been beautiful, but it was not. Dozens of colors clashed with each other, the inlays on top seemed to be made from every possible marble one could think of, and the grains were unmatched. It was, in short, hideous.

Fleur swallowed. "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

Evan stared, unsure what to say about the offending table in case Fleur genuinely liked it. "No. No, I cannot say that I have."

"The craftsmanship is stunning."

"That is true," was all Evan could bring himself to say.
 

"You hate it, don't you?" she asked, praying he said yes.

"I... well ..."

"Oh, please say you hate it, Evan."

"I can honestly say I have never hated a table so much in my life."

She laughed and looked around, her once-excited dreams of finding beautiful furnishings turning into fear. "What if it's all like this? How will we ever get rid of it?"

"There is only one way to find out." Fleur held her breath as Evan walked over to another piece and ripped the linen away. She breathed. It was a dining room sideboard, a perfectly normal sideboard.

"Well, that will be useful," said Evan. "I bet there are other dining room pieces around in here somewhere to match it."

Fleur was about to agree when she heard a thumping noise coming from inside the sideboard. "What was that?"

Evan walked over and grasped Fleur's arm. "I do not know, but maybe we should leave it be."

Fleur laughed. "Don't tell me you are frightened?"

"Of course not, but you know these old homes - what if there are bats in here?" he asked, looking around the ceiling as if a bat were ready to dive at him any moment.

Fleur gave him a skeptical look. "In the sideboard? It's probably only a mouse."

"Must be one enormous mouse," he muttered.

She walked towards the sideboard and he stopped her. "I will go."

He slowly walked over, kneeling down, preparing to open the doors of the cabinet. "Step back a bit," he said.
 

He took a few quick, short breaths and quickly opened the cabinet, only to quickly slam it shut again. "It's a weasel."

"A weasel?" she exclaimed. "How on earth does a weasel find its way into an attic?"

"No idea, perhaps it —"

Evan trailed off as another thump sounded, this one larger and more urgent. He looked at the sideboard door and it shuddered before settling back again.

Just as he was about to again suggest they leave, the weasel burst forth through the door towards him with a loud screech.
 

Evan stood and ran towards Fleur, his arms flailing wildly. Once he reached her, he flung her over his shoulder without so much as a by-your-leave and ran through the attic door before slamming it shut.
 

Breathing hard, he leaned his shoulder into the wall while Fleur tried to orient herself while remaining upside down.

"Evan?" she asked, trying to crane her neck around to see. "I think you can put me down now."

He leaned forward slightly and allowed her body to slide down his own, slowly and carefully until he heard her feet touch the floor. They stayed like that for a moment, his hand on her waist, and she looked up to him, amused.

He cleared his throat, and took a step backwards as if to see her better. "I'll have it cleared out and the rest of the attic opened and checked, along with all the rooms."

"They won't hurt it, will they?"

"By no means, but I don't want you up here alone until the men go over it."

Fleur smiled and then giggled, trying her best not to cackle, but she lost and laughed madly. "Forgive me, Evan, but you should have seen your face."

Evan smiled at her then laughed along. "I suppose I did look rather silly."

She nodded, grin still in place.